


u & i

by neocxxlture



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, canon AU, could be considered a study, ft a really weird cat metaphor idk, they love each other bye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:05:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: The thing between Doyoung and Taeyong remains unacknowledged and unspoken, but that does not mean it is not there.





	u & i

**Author's Note:**

> i was sad and so i wrote this, if there are mistakes i'm sorry

 

The thing between Doyoung and Taeyong remains unacknowledged and unspoken, but that does not mean it is not there.

Taeyong notices sometimes that Doyoung forgets himself; leans in too close, looks at him too honestly, reaches for him on instinct alone only to retract his hand as soon as his mind catches up with his actions. Taeyong may be oblivious to many things, but this is something that doesn’t slip his attention; he is guilty of doing the same, of letting his guard slip.

When Doyoung is so close, Taeyong is helpless.

He wants him even closer.

Doyoung must know, of course he does. Taeyong doesn’t doubt for a second that he’s aware, because he’s aware of all that is around him at any given moment; must know that Taeyong fell head over heels, heart over mind. That there is an ever present buzz under his skin, like it reacts to Doyoung’s proximity. That he is stricken, enamored, even; that he can’t keep his eyes off Doyoung long enough to hide what he’s feeling.

He doesn’t need to hide it. Doyoung feels the same way.

They don’t talk about it.

\--

It’s sort of like that cat that Taeyong can’t help but care for.

He knows that it visits, not each night but often enough to be sure that it does, even if he seldom has the chance to interact with it: it eats all of the tuna Taeyong leaves next to the door. Sometimes he thinks he catches a glimpse of its tail down the street, or disappearing under a parked car, hiding from sight, waiting until he retreats inside to venture closer. He could, but he doesn’t follow it, because he knows it will return when it wants to; he only leaves it more food and hopes it’ll be alright out there on its own, until the time it returns again.

That’s kind of what it feels like, between him and Doyoung.

\--

Taeyong doesn’t know how to bring it up. He’s not even sure if he should.

He’s also not sure it would even matter whether he did or not; he doesn’t think anything would change. But there are times when words burn the back of his throat, when he thinks that he should say at least _something_ —when he catches Doyoung watching him, when Doyoung gives him a smile, small and so lovely, when they’re joking around and Doyoung teases him, pretends to deny that they are – whatever they are.

Taeyong is good with words, even great with lyrics, but he’s clumsy with his emotions more often than not and so this too feels ungainly: he has no idea what he would say if it came to it, rather thinks he would just sputter and falter and in the end not communicate anything at all.

Doyoung is the one that speaks well, but Doyoung is also held back by his mind in a way Taeyong doesn’t fully understand, in a way that keeps him from betraying what he really thinks, even though it at times finds its way to his face on its own accord regardless of Doyoung’s intention.

Sometimes Taeyong thinks that there maybe isn’t anything _to_ say. Maybe the other stuff suffices on its own: the hugs, the not-leaving-each-others-sides, the mutual support shown without any words needed. Taeyong conveys meaning in what he does and Doyoung is skilled in reading between the lines. It is enough.

\--

Sometimes, the cat comes closer, and allows itself to be petted.

It’s usually the quiet evenings, when that happens. When everyone is tired and they just need that little bit of space to themselves, when there’s no schedule to hurry to, when they can just – be. The rare times, Taeyong thinks.

Taeyong cooks for them and does it gladly, but that is usually a lonely affair if there is no one there to assist him, since he needs to prepare so much food and that can take so much time. He always appreciates if someone keeps him company.

Sometimes it‘s Doyoung that joins him in the kitchen. They rarely get moments alone where it’s just the two of them, away from the other boys and management and cameras, and so it’s a precious time; something Taeyong treasures, keeps close to his heart.

It’s not even a special occassion: they talk in low voices, Doyoung helps him prepare the ingredients, or he sits at the table and busies himself with something else while still paying attention to what Taeyong does.

Taeyong never feels alone, but seldom he gets lonely – though never when Doyoung is around. Doyoung has a way of making him feel content wherever he may be, simply only because he is there with him.

\--

Layovers are always tiring, and no matter how Taeyong looks at it, they always last way too long.

There’s not much to do. There’s only so many people to talk to and that only suffices for a while before he bores of that as well. He’s sleepy, but he doesn’t want to actually sleep in a metal uncomfortable airport seat, so he forces himself to stay alert and finds entertainment where he can – he tours the airport with Jungwoo, takes a few selfies, posts those online.

An hour later, with nothing else to do, he finds an empty seat, not too far away from the others but far enough that he doesn’t feel like his space is being imposed on, and slumps into it. He spaces out for a moment, not even sure for how long. Time starts to lose meaning at the airports.

The next thing he knows, Doyoung is sitting down in the seat next to him.

Taeyong throws him a glance, and notices that he looks just as exhausted as Taeyong feels. He’d seen him a few hours before, sitting down and scrolling on his phone, frowning at something. He’d been preoccupied with his phone for a while and so Taeyong didn’t bother him with mindless chatter, though he’d wanted to.

Taeyong thinks that something is weighing on his mind, judging by the murky look on his face, but when he asks what’s wrong Doyoung shakes his head and tells him it’s nothing. And Taeyong doesn’t pry; when Doyoung will be ready to talk about it, he will seek him out.

Taeyong is still so tired and there’s still so much time to spend waiting for their plane so he just – shuffles a tiny bit closer and lays his head on Doyoung‘s shoulder.

Doyoung freezes. Taeyong expects it, and so he doesn’t move more, let’s him adjust and shake him off if he needs to. But Doyoung doesn’t; he keeps sitting, stiff as a board, fiddles with his phone in his hands, but he doesn’t do anything to jostle Taeyong from his position.

It takes a moment. It takes looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to them and maybe some internal convincing, but eventually Doyoung let’s himself relax. He melts into the seat, presses against the side of Taeyong’s body almost imperceptibly, and as he lets out a sigh he lets his head fall on top of Taeyong’s, cheek nuzzled into his hair.

Taeyong isn’t good with expressing what he feels; he’d tried, before. It has taken a few tries and a few crumpled letters and still he wasn’t able to put to words what he’d wanted to say, and so he ended up writing something else, though still true. He cares about him. They are best friends. But Taeyong feels so much more, that he cannot yet articulate.

The thing about Doyoung is that no matter how clumsy his sentences or handwriting get, he is always able to read between Taeyong’s lines.

He can feel Doyoung’s soft breaths at the top of his head, can imagine that Doyoung’s eyes are closed as he allows himself to rest. Taeyong yearns to do more, reach out. Wants to make sure he isn’t burdened too much by his worries, the way he tends to be. Wants to take care of him the way Doyoung does for him.

Doyoung reaches for his hand first.

His fingers are cold to the touch. Doyoung slowly slips them between Taeyong’s own and Taeyong covers his hand with his other free one and before thinking about it brings Doyoung‘s hand to his mouth to blow some warm air on it. He keeps it up even as Doyoung softly laughs into his air, says he’s not cold.

Only when he deems it warmed up enough he lowers their joint hands to the armrest between them. He never loosens his hold. Doyoung doesn’t either.

The thing between Doyoung and Taeyong remains unacknowledged and unspoken, but that does not mean it is not there, true and genuine. They don’t talk about it, but maybe they just don’t need to. Their actions speak louder than words ever could, and so Taeyong is content with the way that they remain. He knows that they love each other. It is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me please! and stream wayv's regular thank you [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/paperplane_127)


End file.
